


First Day

by PalomaSheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, High School, M/M, Sheithlentines 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 22:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17775260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalomaSheith/pseuds/PalomaSheith
Summary: Keith had a plan.No more pining.No more distractions.No more stupid crushes.





	First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> So first and foremost Happy Sheithlentine to [Cat](https://twitter.com/artbycatastroph?s=09)
> 
> You requested:
> 
> Wishlist:  
> AU where they are in school or uni with fluff and humour  
> Do not want:  
> No angst or callbacks to canon please
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and I hope you have a wonderful day!

There wasn't a cloud in the sky on the day that Keith Kogane realized that God hated him.

In fact, it was a bright August morning.

Green grass. Birds singing. Kids laughing.

The whole bit.

The day had started normally enough.

Good even.

Keith actually woke up on time.

Hugged his mom. Caught a ride with Pidge.

First day of junior year and it was going to be the year he set his portfolio. Get experimental and push his boundaries even.

No more distractions. No more useless time daydreaming over what could never be.

Keith was going to be serious.

He’d been able to get his study hall converted into an extra hour of studio time.

Technically speaking, he was a teacher's aide for Art I, but Mr. Regis had assured Keith that he could use the time to work on his projects.

Keith had a plan.

No more pining.

No more distractions.

No more stupid crushes.

He strode into the art room. The scent of paint and acetone filled his lungs and brought a smile to his lips.  He let his backpack fall from his shoulders and deposited his sketchbook on his favorite desk.

He headed straight for the supply closet where he managed to find an acceptable selection of charcoal nubs and a pastel board.

Things were looking up.

Then he left the closet.

And his stomach dropped.

“No…”

But fate said “yes”.

Keith stared at the beautiful, broad shouldered object of all of his Disney inspired daydreams who just happened to be sitting at his favorite desk.

And he _was_ staring.

Keith knew he was staring.

But he couldn't help it.

He was expecting a bunch of freshman and a couple of sophomores getting their fine art credit out of the way.

And his lizard brain couldn't cope with Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane in this class.

“Keith?” Mr. Regis’ laid a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright?”

The noise that left Keith's throat was too squeaky to be considered a croak, but could pass for a gurgle on a windy day. “Eeekkkkrrrrgggghhh…”

Mr. Regris arched a brow.

Keith coughed and forced himself to look away from Shiro. He shifted the supplies in his arms. “I'm fine. Just…”

The teacher opened his mouth to speak, but the trill of the bell cut him off. He shot Keith another look before heading for the front of the room.

Keith managed to pull his thoughts together enough to slide onto the empty stool at the back of the room.

He clipped his board to the table and tried his damndest not to let his eyes wander.

He closed his eyes and popped his earbuds in. And let his mind go blank as he slid his gloves on.

The classroom disappeared around him. The sensation of charcoal dragging across the tooth of the board filled him with a sense of calm. He never really knew what would form on the page. He supposed he should plan more, but it the coal hadn't steered him wrong yet.

Lines morphed into shapes and then forms. A familiar form.

A tall, muscular body. Broad shoulders and narrow hips.

Chiseled features offset by dark kind eyes. Eyes that seemed find Keith's instantly. Every single time.

Soft black hair that, God, just begged to be touched. How many times had he caught himself daydreaming of running his fingers through that stupid floof?

And it was stupid wasn't it?

Not Shiro.

Never.

This crush. This ridiculous crush.

The lines grew thicker. Darker. Storm clouds filled the canvas.

Shiro was beautiful and kind and friendly and… And golden.

Everything Keith wasn't.

The eraser carved white lighting across the blackened skies. Parallel lines streaked rain down the board.

What could a little grey cloud like Keith offer the sun?

Short swirls of black formed an ocean of tangled grass. The man's figure caught in the waves.

A large, strong hand clasped Keith's shoulder pulling him from his trance.

Keith froze.

Mr. Regris tugged gently on the cord of Keith's headphones. “Class is over.”

Keith blinked at the empty classroom. He mumbled an apology and grabbed a can of fixative.

“Get to class, Kogane. I'll take care of it.”

Keith smiled at his art teacher and grabbed his bag.

And reached for his sketchbook.

His… Sketchbook…

No.

Nononononono.

He frantically looked at empty desks. On the floor. On the stools.

Dread gripped his stomach.

It was gone.

Chattering students began to filter into the room. Smiles on their faces and pep in their steps. All completely oblivious to the fact that Keith's life was falling apart in front of them.

“Keith,” Mr. Regis furrowed his brow “I'll look for it. But you have to go.”

Keith forced himself to nod.

The next three hours crawled by in a haze of syllabuses and drawn out explanations. By the time lunch lunch came around, Keith was a wound spring. The bell rang and he sprang.

He burst into the art room before. “Did you find it?”

Mr. Regris shook his head. His mouth moved but Keith had no idea what he said.

His sketchbook was gone.

It was old and ratty and the leather was worn black, but it was his. He'd refilled and rebound it countless times. Just the way his father had taught him.

Each time filling it anew with his hopes and fears and portraits of boy he could never have.

And it was gone.

Tears burned the edges of his eyes as he wandered through the steel supports under the bleachers. He couldn't face the lunch table. Lance's chattering. Hunk's optimism. Matt's teasing. Pidge's concern.

Especially not Shiro and his kind eyes.

Keith pressed his lips together and planted himself in a corner.

The rest of the day trudged by. Even his last two hours in studio felt like torture.

He checked and rechecked every nook of the art room.

But to no avail.

He trudged outside after the final bell and made his way to Pidge's Mini Cooper on autopilot. He slunk into the passenger seat and hugged his bag to his chest. He stared out the window and cursed every bird that sang.

He felt Pidge's gaze on him but refused to turn around.

“Missed you at lunch,” she turned the radio down as she spoke. “Shiro was asking where you were.”

He grunted.

She sighed. “Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” There was a smile in her voice, but the threat was real.

Silence.

“Keith. Was it Lotor again?”

He chewed his lip. “No.”

“What is it?”

Keith swallowed hard and forced himself to look at his best friend. “It's gone Pidge.”

“What's gone?”

The tears threatened again. “My sketchbook. The one dad gave me. It's-It's gone.” He closed his eyes.

The car turned onto Marmora Drive rapidly approaching Keith's house. His mother would be home soon and he'd have to tell her. And she'd understand. But he couldn't stomach the thought of her pitying look. He forced himself to open his eyes and they slowed to a stop.

Behind a familiar black Jeep.

Keith frowned.

Pidge smiled and pointed at the porch where Shiro stood clutching a worn leather book to his chest. He smiled and waved at the car.

At Keith.

“You know,” Pidge said, “You really should have figured out by now that you don't have to deal with things alone.” She unlocked his door. “Go get em, tiger.”

He didn't have to be told twice.

Keith grabbed his bag and didn't even bother with a goodbye.

Shiro met him halfway down the pathway. His smile was blinding and his cheeks were pink. “Keith…”

“Shiro…”

Shiro stepped closer. “I picked up your sketchbook.” He held it out.

Keith's fingers brushed Shiro's he took the book. He cradled it to his chest. “Thank you.”

Shiro stepped closer still. “Keith, I…”

“Yes?”

“Keith, I… Are those me?”

“Yes,” the confession tumbled out and he pressed his lips together. “I'm sorry.”

“No!”

Keith raised his eyebrows.

“I mean… Don't be sorry. You're beautiful.”

Keith blushed.

So did Shiro. “I mean your art. Your art is beautiful.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You are too though.” He bit his lip. I'm ruining this aren't I?”

“Ruining what?”

Shiro swallowed. Keith watched the bob of his Adam's apple. Shiro took a final step forward. They were chest to chest. “Keith,” he wrapped a hand around Keith's hip, “I decided something.”

“What?” Keith breathed.

“This is my senior year. And I don't want to have any regrets.” He rubbed his thumb along Keith's hipbone. “Keith Kogane, will you let me take you out this weekend?”

Keith couldn't speak. He squeaked.

Worry crossed Shiro's face. Then doubt. He moved to step back. “I'm sorry. I thought may-”

Keith pulled him back and down into kiss. A sweet slide of lips that left them both reeling.

“Yes,” Keith breathed as they parted.

Shiro smiled.

And they kissed again.


End file.
